Woo woo woo...
The train blew its whistle three times—it was about to depart.
Parents who had come to see their children off stood on the platform, waving goodbye with faces full of affection and care. Their eyes sparkled with reluctance, capturing the joy and sorrow of parting.
For orphans, this scene could stir deep emotions. But Allen remained indifferent. His soul had matured beyond the bounds of this body, and he held no attachment to its biological parents.
For Harry, however, it was different. Watching the loving families outside the window, his heart ached with envy. How he wished that some of the love and concern displayed on the platform belonged to him.
Unfortunately, his only living relatives were the Dursleys—a family who not only wouldn't feel sorrow at his departure but would likely celebrate it. They might even toast to his absence with a cheerful dinner.
Lying beside the window, Harry sighed. A wave of resentment and loneliness seemed to seep into the very air of the train compartment.
Allen, seated across from Harry, glanced at him thoughtfully. Noticing the gloom settling over his companion, Allen suddenly pointed out the window and said, "Look over there—someone almost missed the train."
Harry looked in the direction Allen was pointing and saw a family of redheads sprinting wildly toward the train. They made it just in time, greeted by a short, plump lady whose warm and frantic gestures made the scene all the more amusing.
Their frantic dash, coupled with their unmistakable red hair and flustered expressions, made Harry chuckle involuntarily.
Sure enough, the Weasley family had a natural talent for comedy.
With Harry's mood visibly lifted, Allen leaned back calmly in his seat and pulled out a book titled "One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi." It was one of the Herbology textbooks used at Hogwarts, priced at two Galleons. The thick volume was filled with descriptions of thousands of magical plants, many of which were also used in potions.
For most young wizards, this might simply be a dry reference book, but for Allen, it was a vegetarian encyclopedia of magical ingredients.
After thoroughly studying this book, Allen hoped to expand the range of ingredients he used in his magical cooking experiments.
Besides, magical plants with distinctive smells and flavors weren't just useful as vegetables—they could also serve as unique seasonings. Allen was especially keen to explore this underdeveloped area of magical gastronomy. He felt the seasoning section of his recipe repertoire was sorely lacking in variety.
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Across from him, Harry, still smiling from the Weasleys' dramatic entrance, turned his head and saw Allen reading intently. He wasn't surprised. The chef sitting across from him—celebrated as a culinary prodigy by many wizards in Diagon Alley—was known to seize every opportunity to read. Be it Potions, Herbology, or Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Allen was always buried in a book.
Harry admired that trait. Proximity breeds similarity, and following Allen around had helped him cultivate a good reading habit too.
What Harry didn't realize, though, was that they read in very different ways.
Harry read to memorize, to understand spells and lessons.
Allen read to explore flavor, texture, and magical properties—always imagining how a potion ingredient might taste or how a herb's aroma might enhance a dish.
Still, reading was a good habit either way.
Silently, Harry reached into his carry-on bag and took out one of his spell books. He didn't care much for Potions, but spells fascinated him.
The compartment fell into a comfortable quiet, broken only by the soft rustle of turning pages. The calm atmosphere stood in stark contrast to the noisy corridor outside.
Just then, a red-haired boy walked past the compartment, looking around anxiously. He spotted Harry and Allen through the glass window and immediately brightened. He was about to open the door when he noticed the two boys reading seriously.
Oh Merlin—reading seriously before even starting school? Ronald Weasley stared in disbelief.
That heavy academic atmosphere hit him like a wall. He hesitated, wondering if there might be another compartment available, perhaps one with a little more… life.
He continued forward hesitantly, but soon returned looking even more dejected.
Nope. The other compartments were either full or packed with noisy kids. This one—despite its intense scholarly vibe—was the only option left.
Ronald stood at the door, debating whether to step into what seemed like the most boring box on the entire train. After a moment's struggle, he finally pushed open the door and entered.
"Um… sorry to bother you. Mind if I sit here?" Ronald asked timidly. Afraid of being misunderstood, he quickly added, "All the other compartments are full."
"It's fine. There's plenty of room," Harry said warmly, gesturing to the seat across from him.
"Thanks." Ronald let out a breath of relief. At least one of them didn't seem too intimidating.
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Relieved, Ronald sat down, set his worn satchel aside, and looked nervously at Allen, who still hadn't spoken a word.
Compared to Harry's friendly demeanor, Allen's focused silence made Ronald a bit uneasy. He'd barely even looked at him since he entered. That one glance—just a flicker—had been enough to make Ronald sweat.
Determined to break the ice, Ronald pulled out a large black rat from his bag. "This is my pet, Scabbers," he said with a hopeful smile. "He's kind of lazy but really well-behaved."
He figured starting with pets was a good way to connect.
At the mention of the name Scabbers, Allen raised his eyes and looked directly at the plump black rat twitching in Ronald's hand.
[Mouse]
Hunting Level: 49
Special Abilities: Animagus
Animagus, a wizard capable of transforming into an animal. Once transformed, the wizard gains the full appearance and behavior of the animal, making them nearly impossible to distinguish. However, in this form, they lose all magical abilities—except the ability to revert to human form.
Fascinating. Allen stared thoughtfully at the rat.
I wonder... would a wizard in Animagus form be… delicious?
As if sensing a sinister thought, the black rat shivered violently, then wriggled free from Ronald's hand and darted back into the worn satchel.
Startled by the reaction, Ronald laughed awkwardly. "It's a bit shy… not usually like this. It's normally very tame."
Allen dropped his gaze and returned to his book, saying nothing.
So sensitive. He hadn't even done anything—just thought about it. He wouldn't really eat an Animagus, after all. Animagi were still human beings. Allen didn't eat humans.
Still... had his malicious intent been that obvious?
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